


Moonbeams

by coconutcluster



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: M/M, just some fluff, platonic or romantic logicality, there is mention and very brief desc of nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-20
Updated: 2019-06-20
Packaged: 2020-05-15 14:07:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19297285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coconutcluster/pseuds/coconutcluster
Summary: There was a twitch, a bleary startle in his limbs, and his mind seemed a bit more preoccupied with the lack of light in the room as his eyes plodded through the tedious act of opening - it was nighttime, he realized after a moment, the pitch black around him pierced only by silver moonbeams dripping in through the window and the dim light of his desk lamp (he really needed new batteries for that). He stared at the lamp and blinked quickly, trying to force his mind alert.He was so preoccupied with squinting at the his desk that it wasn’t until he heard his door start to creak shut he finally realized he’d been asked a question.





	Moonbeams

**Author's Note:**

> i've been in an awful slump lately, so while this is short, it's refreshing to be back and writing again <3

 

“Logan? Are you awake?”

There was a twitch, a bleary startle in his limbs before Logan actually processed the question. Even as he did process it, his mind seemed a bit more preoccupied with the lack of light in the room as his eyes plodded through the tedious act of opening - it was nighttime, he realized after a moment, the pitch black around him pierced only by silver moonbeams dripping in through the window and the dim light of his desk lamp (he really needed new batteries for that). He stared at the lamp and blinked quickly, trying to force his mind alert.

He was so preoccupied with squinting at the his desk that it wasn’t until he heard his door start to creak shut he finally realized he’d been asked a question.

“I’m awake,” he called into the darkness, voice gritty with the residue of sleep. He couldn’t tell who was in his doorway, but he could just make out their silhouette against the dim light of the hallway, their arm outstretched to grip the doorknob as they slowly nudged his door open again. 

“Sorry to bother you,” they said quietly; Logan propped himself up on an elbow when he finally figured out which voice it was. 

“You’re not bothering me, Patton,” he insisted, admittedly lying. “Is something wrong?”

Patton - or rather, the shadow of Patton that Logan could see - shuffled further into his room, wringing his wrists; his hair was a mess of curls and his glasses reflected the little light in the room, just enough for Logan to see they were crooked. “Nothing’s- well, nothing important, no, but...” He cut himself off, paused just past the door, as if he suspected he’d be thrown out any second. 

“Patton?”

“Can I stay in here for a little bit?” he rushed, voice trembling at the last second. 

Logan released a pent-up breath; he knew of Patton’s recent issue of nightmares - the moral Side described them once as lifelike terrors, playing over and over like a broken record until he woke up shaking - and had found himself the stable reassurance after his wake more than once. (He knew Patton feared worsening the nightmares by venturing to Roman or Virgil’s room, and apparently Logic provided a good grounding - he’d be lying if he said it didn’t feel nice to be the first resort.) The familiarity of the scene didn’t lessen the spike of concern in his chest. 

“Of course,” he said, shifting to the other side of his bed to give Patton room to settle in. A few seconds later, he heard his door creak shut and soft footsteps shuffle across the hardwood floor before the moral Side sank into the open spot, though he didn’t lay down, just fiddled with the edge of his shirt as he stared into his lap. In the dim light drifting from the desk lamp, Logan saw the tiny frown adorning Patton’s face, the way his eyebrows drew together to form a crease between them. His shirt had threads loose where his fingers tugged relentlessly at the fabric. “Patton?”

“I feel like they’re getting worse,” Patton whispered, gaze not straying from the spot in his lap. “I’d only been asleep for an hour before I woke up this time.”

“What happened?” 

The first time he listened to Patton vent about the nightmares, he’d asked questions out of curiosity, fascinated by the mechanics of a figment of Thomas’ personality having dreams themselves; now, however, he just wanted to help get rid of them, if only to see Patton’s bright smile unencumbered by fatigue again. 

“People were yelling,” Patton started with a thick voice. “I don’t- I couldn’t tell what they were saying, just... they were so loud. And then there was too much light and I couldn’t open my eyes, but they were still yelling at me, and I was trying to listen and do what they were asking, but I just _couldn’t_ , and-” He cut off again, taking a shuddering breath as he tugged again at his shirt. “They were _so loud_ , Lo. And the noise came from everywhere at once, it felt like I couldn’t breathe.” 

Without thinking, Logan reached a hand out to grasp one of Patton’s, easing the incessant pulling at his shirt hem. Patton let out a shaky breath and laced their fingers together tightly - for a second, Logan worried he’d done something wrong, but Patton’s shallow breathing slowed to an even pace once more, his eyes fluttering shut as his shoulders fell. 

“I’m tired, Lo,” he said, an exhale more than words, as he finally laid down, his eyes still shut and hand still in Logan’s. “I just wanna sleep.”

Time after time, Patton had come to him about this, and yet Logan still couldn’t form a response that seemed appropriate, that was helpful enough to make his input worth anything. So he just tightened his grip in Patton’s and waited. 

Patton curled toward their link, shifting closer to the logical Side with a low hum until his head rested against Logan’s shoulder. “Thank you for being here, Lo.”

“This is my room, Patton.”

The moral Side gave a small chuckle - Logan could clearly see his nose scrunching up without even looking. “I meant being here for me,” Patton breathed, a smile permeating his words. “Thank you for letting me talk to you about this. I appreciate it- I appreciate you.”

“Oh.” Maybe it was the last traces of sleepiness still fogging his common sense, but, as if on instinct, he reached his free hand up and carded his fingers through Patton’s unruly curls, a smile tugging at his lips as the moral Side just curled closer. “Of course I’m here for you, Patton. I’m sorry I can’t do more to make you feel better-”

“This is fine,” Patton proclaimed, draping his free arm around Logan’s waist in a loose hug. “This is perfect, actually.” 

He yawned, face calm at last as he settled into place, and as his breathing tapered off into a soft evenness, Logan smiled and let its rhythm lull him to sleep too.


End file.
